Vale City Stories
by Rogue Vector
Summary: AU (still RWBYverse, though): Crime is on the rise in Vale and the VCPD is but a shadow of its former integrity; who knows how many are in the pocket of the crime lords or out for their own slice of the city? But even shadows cannot exist without a light. A light of hope, one that the rookie Jaune Arc finds both within a badge, and without.
1. The Rookie

**This is an AU centered around Jaune as a police officer in the VCPD. Originally spawned from the prompt 'Nora is a mafia princess', I went with that but ended up writing this... I do have the whole current cast (and more...) planned to be put in, so don't worry if your favorite character hasn't come in just yet! Feedback will be appreciated greatly, so please drop a review/comment!**

**So without further ado, enjoy!**

**(21/1/2013: Updated Chapter 1)**

"Hey... You ever wonder why we're here?"

"Huh? What?" VCPD Officer Jaune Arc looked up from the passenger seat of the cruiser, turning towards the source of the voice.

"It's appreciation." Sergeant Winchester continued his pseudo-philosophical rambling as he lounged on the driver's seat, having just finished counting off bills and a small bag of Dust shards. He casually raked his fingers through his short cropped brown hair, grinning to himself in the mirror.

"We keep the good citizens of Vale safe from their own stupidity and we do it so well that they decide we should be paid our dues directly, rather than have some greedy mayor tax out his own undeserved share." With a grand gesture he spread his arms wide and grinned at his imagined audience.

"In short, my simple friend, this is the pay we deserve." He grinned. "We just have to go out and collect it."

Winchester let out a short, barking laugh as he tucked the brown bag away into the depths of his winter uniform jacket, but a thought sent him back for it. With a devilish grin he counted then tossed a wad of notes onto the dashboard in front of the rookie.

Jaune stared at the dirty money in silence.

_Pay they deserved..._ He glanced out the window to the dust shop owner, who was nursing his arm as he hurried back to the store.

Yeah. Deserved.

_Like hell._

Winchester coughed and looked pointedly at the wad of untouched cash.

"What? Your think your cut ain't big enough?" A slow scowl spread across his lips as he tucked away the lion's share and started up the engine, turning on the siren to halt traffic as he pulled off the curb and into the lane, gunning the heavy duty engine to bring it up to full speed. His mood quickly brightened, though, as he settled into the drive through the streets of Vale City's commercial district.

"Aah, don't worry about it. You start pulling weight around here and Ol' Sergeant Chester will make sure you get your due." Laughed the burly cop, casually weaving through traffic with the cruiser. "Hell, all you did was stand around front of that shop while I went and did all the hard work."

Work, in this case, seemed to involve shaking down and beating a dust trader until he had shoved a brown paper bag into the Sergeant's hand. Jaune stayed silent as he turned away and watched the traffic around them.

"Count yourself lucky you got a forward thinking vet of a partner who's willing to show you what you can make yourself into out here if you play your cards right." Cardin said smugly.

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks." Murmured Jaune absently, looking at the collection of fives, tens and a twenty. He mentally counted and came up with a hundred. Cardin had pocketed at least three times as much, if his appraisal of the worth of the dust and cash had been right.

A familiar grin spread across his cheeks. "See? 'Course I'm right. Just listen to me and you'll be set."

(Scene break)

They drifted lazily through the streets now, Jaune manning the computer and punching in the license numbers of passing cars that the Sergeant pointed out to him. While driving he continued rambling on about his exploits, none of which involved policing, and many more about women and money. It had been like this for the past week, where the fresh academy graduate had been assigned to the sergeant as his new partner.

On paper, Sergeant Cardin Winchester was an experienced beat cop, unafraid of bending the rules a little to get justice served but with enough respect for the book not to outright break them. Paperwork got filed mostly on time, weapons were rarely used, and few citizens complained about his methods. Had the paperwork been right, he would have made an excellent pick to partner a rookie with.

The paper couldn't be any more wrong.

"Get out of the way, freak!" Roared Cardin, hammering on his horn. The pedestrian scrambled away from where he had been crossing and made it to the curb just before Cardin roared past.

"Stupid, blind little shits." He grumbled, leering into the rear view mirror. "I swear I'm gonna run one of them over some day."

Jaune settled back into his seat as the adrenaline ebbed from his system. He was watching the wing mirror as the man shakily found a seat on a streetside bench.

The car remained silent after that near miss, with only the occasional muttered commentary from the one man peanut gallery beside him.

It wasn't until they were on the home stretch to the station that his face finally lit up with a wicked smile.

"Hey, that money bothers you doesn't it?"

The rookie's head whipped around. _What was his game…?_

"Uh… yes?"

Cardin chuckled, giving Jaune a knowing wink. "I can see that the cash burns your wallet, lil' partner o' mine. Sergeant Winchester here says that if you got it to spare, spend it."

Jaune suppressed a sigh. He knew where his money was going; down Cardin's throat as beer.

"Say, why not have some fun with it, Jaunie? Let's meet later, we can go to a bar with some of the boys. Throwing round some cash is sure to hook you a nice girl if you play your cards right."

Jaune's cheeks reddened at the thought. He shook if clear and made a few noncommittal sounds.

"We ain't going there as uniforms, kid. Just enjoy it. You know... live a little!" Shrugged the older cop, pulling the patroller into the VCPD compound. He kneed the door open and stepped out with a faint chuckle that abruptly petered out.

Suddenly, Jaune felt the car rock as his partner slammed the door.

"Hide that cash. Now!" Hissed Cardin through the open window, his voice unusually shaky.

The rookie scrambled to comply, stuffing his cut of the dirty cash into his jacket and bending down to pretend that he was checking the glove compartment.

"What money would this be, Cardin?" Purred a voice coming from right behind him. It was female, but to Jaune's ears distinctly predatory. Cardin stepped aside to reveal a busty blonde in casual dress; a low cut leather jacket and hot pants which was pretty unlike what most police officers would wear. This was, however, offset by the large golden bracelets that he realised were stowed away shot gauntlets. Her long tresses of golden locks streaming in the wind behind her made him doubt for a moment that she actually carried the authority that her voice did, but the VCPD Detective's badge clipped to her belt said otherwise.

"D-detective Long." Stammered Cardin. His usual air of confidence had evaporated. Jaune's feelings were conflicted between being amused or afraid. "Why ain't you looking fine this evening..."

"Corrupting our newbies already, Winchester?" The detective growled, immediately stonewalling him with eyes hard set as she angrily crossed her arms over her chest. Jaune found it hard not to stare. "If only you worked as hard on actual policing as you do in mooching money, you'd have made a decent cop by now."

"Hey, the kid needed to make a withdrawal at the bank! And don't say nothin' you can't prove, Long."

Detective Long smirked as she looked down at the half-cowering rookie. "Which bank was it, kiddo?"

"That's none of your business!" Cardin interrupted.

Long's eyebrow went up slowly, dangerously.

"Winchester. Go take a walk."

Cardin flinched as if he had been slapped. He slowly nodded, and despite the breach of regulation and rank, ground out a reluctant 'Yessir' and departed.

Jaune watched in barely concealed awe as Cardin spun on his heel and walked into the precinct building, fuming all the way. Then he found a gloved hand clapping down on one shoulder, which transmitted through the leather gloves the soft chuckle the detective was enjoying.

"Don't run, I don't bite." Breathed a voice into his neck. "What's your name, officer?"

Even with the reassurance Jaune found himself quickly gathering sweat under his uniform collar. "Jaune. Jaune Arc."

Jaune felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. _Holy…_ he never thought he could _feel_ a smile.

Finally, the blonde spoke once more, grinning at him through the open window. "I'm Detective Yang Shao Long. Come with me."

(Scene Break)

VCPD's 2nd Precinct was, to use a cliche, a hive of activity. Officers moved in and out, on and off duty, some marching an arrestee between them. Others were taking statements or writing reports. More were checking in. It was true, actually, that the majority of police work involved writing things down or reading things that had been written. The two of them entered, Long giving the desk Sergeant a curt nod as she passed by.

She lead them into the VCPD building into her office, one with her name on it as well as the name of another detective, presumably her partner: Det. B. Belladonna. As soon as she closed the door, she pointed at a seat which Jaune quickly sat on. Detective Long didn't even try to ignore where his eyes were wandering and placed one set of her knuckles on a hip and gave him a flirty grin, which sent the rookie blushing.

"I was working with Vice today. They needed a face for some Johnny baiting." Long explained, giving her hair a quick toss as she went to her computer and began tapping keys. "I worked like a charm."

"So." Jaune hedged. He scratched the back of his hair nervously. "I think I know what you want, and I can't say anything about Winchester. I m-"

"Jaune Arc. Twenty seven, born 14th of December. Youngest in a family of three brothers. Almost all working for the police, I see."

Jaune let out a nervous chuckle. "Yeah. Lots would call it a family tradition. My great great grandfather was a cop. My grandfather was a cop. My dad was a cop, and so were all his brothers... And so are most of mine."

"And what was your great grandfather?" Long asked, arching an inquisitive eyebrow at the omission of the ancestor.

At this his nervousness doubled and he let out a nervous laugh. "He was a dust thief. Sometimes justice skips a generation, as my grandma would say."

The blonde detective smirked at that and continued on with reading through his file.

"Graduated last year, decent scores. Theoretical grades are pretty average but your physical and aura marks made up for it." Yang's eyebrows went up as she pulled a file on his aura analysis and assessment. Those scores were better than hers!

"Ookay, so you know what's on my record..." Jaune found himself immediately back on the defensive as she continued typing away. "What's your play? Rat out Cardin or I make your life hell?"

Long smiled. "Well, you're starting to think like a detective, not a beat cop, Arc. Look, there are unwritten rules out here, and one of them involves not throwing your partner in the cacky. Even with the worst of scum I respect that line." With a shake of her blonde head she tapped on her screen a few more times and closed down his file. "I would bet my hair I know more than you do about what Cardin gets up to, Arc, and what I know means that I don't like our dear Sergeant any more than the Faunus shop owners he likes shaking down. I know you took a cut before you came back to HQ. See how you winced? Yeah, that just confirmed it."

Her features softened just a slice at how his face screwed up with guilt. "... but that face you're making tells me you didn't ask for it."

Letting out a sympathetic sigh, Long gave her golden head a shake. "Look, you got a crap deal when you got Winchester as a partner. He's as rotten as it gets, and he's got enough of a brown nose from kissing brass arse that I can't touch him."

Jaune shifted uncomfortably as he looked from Long to the door. He let out a sigh of his own as he once more bemoaned his fate.

Long chuckled once again and leaned back into her seat, kicking her legs up onto the table. His cheeks reddened slightly at that. "All I can say is this, kiddo: Keep your head down and hands clean. Winchester's got enough rats here that I might need an exterminator rather than an IA shrink if I try to clean up house."

"Why?" Jaune asked, eyes narrowing. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because there are few enough good people in this city." Breathed the detective with a sigh. "I try to look out for them when I can."

The rookie let his stance relax ever so slightly. "... And just how do you know I'm a good person?"

"Hello? Does 'Detective' Yang Xiao Long mean anything to you?" Long grinned, pointing to her name on the frosted glass. The rookie let out a groan and nodded, embarrassed, which got a hearty laugh out of the blonde as she playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Comes with the territory, rook. I earned that badge, unlike some. You'll learn, eventually. Until then... Keep your head down, and your hands as clean as possible. Can you do that?"

"Thanks." Jaune nodded, smiling bashfully.

Yang grinned at him and began scribbling on her notepad.

"Oh, and here." She handed him a scrap of paper with a wink. At his look of askance, she shrugged. "My number. We just maaaaybe might have a date this Thursday, in case Cardin asks. He'll get enough green in his eyes that it'll get him off your case about being a twist." A devilish grin spread across her lips, and unlike Cardin's he actually felt comforted by this one. She moved to the door, opening it for him, and Jaune took his cue to leave.

"And call me Yang, all my friends do." She called out as he stepped through the door.

"Th-thanks, Det-Yang. I meant, thanks, Yang. Call me Jaune, if you'd like."

"Looks like you know how to learn quickly." Smiled the detective, making a shooing motion as she picked up a sheaf of papers and began to flick through them. "You're doing good so far, Jaune. Now scoot, I think Cardin's been sweating for long enough now."

Cardin was not one to mince words when his own skin was on the line. Jaune was immediately cornered as soon as he stepped out of sight of Long's office.

"Rook, you'd better not have said anything about me to the blonde there." Cardin hurriedly blurted out. His mask of beneficent veteran was starting to crack now, making Jaune take a quick step back, which Cardin quickly followed up on by all but slamming Jaune against the wall. "You know one of the first things I said to you was the number one rule about partners: we look out for each other. I swear, Arc, if you told her anything at all..."

"N-no! Actually, Long did most of the talking."

"About?" Pressed Cardin. Jaune scrambled for the escape rope he had been given and stored in his breast pocket.

"Eeeeh... Things. We got to talking about each other, actually... Uh, well, you could say I turned on the ol' Arc family charm, and now she wants to meet up this Thursday." Jaune held up the paper with Yang's number on it with a nervous grin.

The sergeant's nostrils flared as he saw the red ink on the paper. Wide eyed, he grabbed Jaune's wrist and dragged it closer so that he could read off the paper.

"How the f-" Cardin relaxed and kept himself in check though as he settled back into his seat, his face becoming a rather fragile facsimile of a mentor proud of his protege.

"Well, ain't you the lucky one. Blondie's taken to you of all people..." He muttered to himself, even though Jaune was in earshot he was too relieved to be insulted.

_Just like Yang had said._

"Ah well, have fun, though I have no idea how a rook like you managed that." He groused, pulling open his locker and stowing his service pistol for his off duty, though the over large mace-like night stick still hug off his belt. "You're still coming with us to Pitch Black? Or is the new hot shot here too good for his own partner?"

Jaune let out a sigh. So much for keeping his head down. "Yeah, sure. Tonight, right?"

"I'll pick you up, Arc." Grinned Cardin. "I know where you live."


	2. Showtime

"Heeey there bunny girl, you want some of this?"

That would make it the fourteenth count of sexual harassment. Add to that four counts of littering, seven traffic violations including speeding, reckless endangerment and running a red light as well as one poor traffic cone that was probably flat enough to mail, and one would have an even better idea of how Cardin and his lackeys treated the law.

Too bad he couldn't do anything about it.

Jaune drummed his fingers on one knee as the lackey he had dubbed 'Mohawk' cackled and simply waved off the dirty look he got from the woman he had been making faces at, reaching over to tap knuckles with Blue.

At first he had dubbed Cardin's thee friends Lackey #1-3, but during the drive from the residential district north, towards the edge of the commercial district into the informal entertainment strip, he had found that nicknames worked better. Mohawk - formerly Lackey #1 - and his opposite, Blue (Lackey #2) were passing the time hooting and howling at the people on the street, shouting catcalls, wolf whistles or outright insults at the people passing by.

Jaune was sitting at the backmost seat, trying to ignore the frat house atmosphere that had overtaken the car.

All five of them - Cardin, the three lackeys and himself - had cruising around with no real destination for almost an hour by then, prowling the streets in Cardin's souped up Minotaur SUV, with each of the four friends trading suggestions on where to go: various dives and establishments came up, ranging from nightclubs, bars and even a few cafes, only for someone or another to shoot down the idea for various reasons - a worryingly large number of which had been 'I got kicked out of there'.

Slowly, Cardin's Minotaur made its way into North Riverside, the northern counterpart of its twin, both of which followed the river that made up the border of the city's commercial and residential district. Ever since a decade ago they had become the Vale's entertainment district, featuring clubs, bars, a couple of casinos, entertainment centers, late night shopping and even its own 24/7 mini-theme park.

It even got so popular that the river had to be assigned its own subdivision of the coast guard to fish midnight revelers out after they decided to go in via one of the many bridges that spanned the Vale River.

Jaune's ears perked up as Lackey #3 - err, 'Smiles', turned to the rest of the passengers..

"Hey, why don't we head on over to Pitch Black? I heard that place opened up again." He suggested. Of the three, the rookie had to hate him the least. But that was simply because he had been the quiet one in the passenger seat, nodding yes to almost every question that Cardin had posed, and dutifully laughing when prompted to by the sergeant's stories.

Mohawk poked his head back into the car. "Ah, I know the one! Junior runs it, doesn't he?"

Blue nodded his agreement, slipping back into his seat. "Yeah, and there's those twins as well, ain't there?"

Cardin turned on his seat, grinning at Jaune in the back. "Hey, Jaunie, let's go grab some drinks there!"

"Sure, Cardin." Jaune muttered, nodding ruefully. He had the dirty money on him, and he was sure that they were going to ask him to cover their tab.

(Scene Break)

He couldn't believe it.

They could have at least dropped him off at home.

"Dammit, Cardin…"

'Oh sorry, Jaune, we figured you had taken a taxi home' or 'Huh, you sure we didn't take you home? I mean, you were pretty drunk…' He could hear the excuses already. Stumbling through the streets, Jaune considered getting a taxi, but he only had a handful of lien left on hand. It wasn't like the taxi drivers were going to be friendly with a drunk-ass hobo demanding they drive him halfway across town.

Yang. It must have been Yang. Cardin seemed the type to be petty enough to do something like this over him getting a date. And not even a real date, at that. He even wondered if the number was real.

Jaune slammed the lid of the trashcan back down and grabbed the wad of tissue paper he had picked up at a fast food joint. He wiped his mouth with it, and resisted the urge to vomit again. Not only did it taste bad, but it really reminded him of his first day at Academy. Now that had been embarrassing. It had taken him some three weeks to shake the name of vomit boy. Finally reaching the stage where he was dry heaving, Jaune stumbled along a few more steps, his head still spinning.

It was a small comfort to know that only most of his money had been spent on Cardin and his lackeys.

"Never having beer again." He choked, preemptively grabbing onto another trash can in case he needed to upchuck again. The blonde figured that he was probably glad that he wouldn't remember the past four hours, but given that his current possessions amounted to only his clothes, ID, a five lien note and his cellphone told him that it was not going to be a fun remainder of the night.

"Ugh…" The blonde tried massaging his temples, which only made the headache worse. He stepped out of the alley and back onto the street, glancing around to try and find his bearings. Still in Riverside… which meant another five hours walk back, unless he could find a train. Which would cost him six and a half lien to get back to the far side of the residential distrtict.

_Dammit._

Jaune stumbled past a club, weakly returning the smile from a pair of girls - twins, he realized - and getting back onto his quest for… home? No, wait, before shelter...

"Water…" He said to himself, blinking as his dad's advice surfaced in his mind. But that had been when they were on a family trip and the discussion had veered towards 'what's your priorities if you're stranded on a deserted island?'. Water, shelter, food. Had it been in that order, though? He decided it didn't really matter, and moved on.

Jaune laughed despite himself. At least he could apply it here.

But then again, the river didn't seem like a good place to find it. Maybe a store?

(Scene Break)

From Dust 'till Dawn's door jingled as he stepped into the store. It was pretty standard, as all things went; dust chutes lined the walls or came pre-packed in bottles or refill sachets in the shelves that made up most of the store. In the center of it all and surrounded by Dust crystals a balding old shopkeeper sat behind the counter, reading through a magazine.

Jaune supposed that 'from dust till dawn' wasn't just a sweet nothing of a name.

"So whaddaya want, kiddo?" The senior citizen asked, arching an eyebrow. The man had a slightly confused, if amused air about him, peering at Jaune from underneath heavy eyebrows. "I know some folks think that suckin' on uncut Frost like its a minty will cure that hangover that's no doubt comin' to ya, but experience tells me that you don't wanna do that."

"Hah… oh… well, I was looking for some water." Jaune answered with a weak smile. The old man seemed to relax a fraction as he pointed Jaune towards the back of the store, where a corner of the dust store sold the usual convenience merchandise; drinks, snacks, magazines and essentials. The rookie thanked the old man and left the last of his money on his counter as he made his way to the back. He quickly picked up a bottle - two lien - and another for the road, tucking them into his hoodie's belly pocket. Idly, while he guzzled down the first bottle, Jaune looked up at the newspapers and magazines in front of him; Weapons Mag, The Truth, Achievement Hunter, VCN…

He idly reached out and picked out one of the newspapers at random, his face furrowing as he flipped over to the law and crime section. Arrests had been made related to a dust shipment theft a few years back. Gang warfare was heating up, with another thankfully non-lethal shooting happening deep in the industrial district. More speculation on who the new 'White Princess of Vale's Underworld' and her possible relation to recent robberies of dust stores, white fang activity on the rise… and it looked like there was a new vigilante group on the rise.

Losing himself in the paper, he only really noticed time passing when the door rung once, twice… Jaune turned as the third jingle in as many seconds rung his instincts as well as the bell.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a dust shop open at this time of night?" Someone asked.

Jaune turned just in time to see the pistol being drawn and pressed up into the shop owner's face, and slowly the blonde lowered himself down between the shelves.

The old man stammered and begged, already reaching for the register. One of the robbers shook his head and smiled in cruel amusement. "Shh, I'm not here for your money, old timer… I'm here for some dust."

Four, five, six. Jaune crouched low and mentally tallied the number of robbers and frowned. Six was a lot of thugs. Their leader was obviously the one in white; the rest were dressed in a uniform of black suit jacket, shirt and trousers, with red glasses and matching tie. Most also were armed with curved hacking blades and heavy autopistols. That drew on his suspicions even more; what were armed burglars doing, being this well dressed and so uniformly armed? It didn't fit… normally they operated in twos or threes, but these guys were easily double that. That suggested a more professional kind of criminal. More organized.

"Grab the blast and burn first! You and you, grab the cases and get the crystals! Driller, grab the tubes and move them to the cars!"

Everything was happening so fast… he couldn't get his mind around it. The blonde shifted back, going deeper into the shelves to hide himself for as long as possible.

He pulled free his cellphone from his pocket, and began dialing for the police. But he stopped halfway, realizing that doing so would give him away as he tried to whisper the situation. So texting, then. He wracked his brains for someone - anyone - to text and call the police and send them coming this way. But who would be awake at this hour? Jaune mentally flipped through a list of… names. No, most of his old school buddies would be asleep or otherwise occupied at this hour. Mom and dad? They'd be asleep too. Two o'clock in the morning was a horrible time to be asking for help..

Jaune found himself reaching back into his left hand pocket. That was it! Yang. She could be up right now… though if she was serious about dating, he wondered what kind of teasing he'd get about their first text exchange being about a midnight robbery.

There was a muted rack-clack! of an autopistol's slide being pulled back behind him, and Jaune let out a defeated sigh. Damn.

"Alright, buddy, no need for anyone to get hurt here… lemme see those hands!" Growled a thug.

Mentally kicking himself for being snuck up on, Jaune did as he was told, placing both his phone and Yang's number on the floor and slowly raising his hands. It was actually embarrassing; given that he was a freakin' cop and all, he should be the one with the pistol and demanding surrender! Still, it wasn't like he would be able to get it, and the thug did have a half-dozen buddies covering him so cooperation was the better part of valor. At least, for the moment.

Thankfully, unlike some panicking amateur often seen in CCTV footage, this guy was a professional; he quickly closed the flip-top phone and tucked it into a shelf, trapping Yang's number with it. He then pushed Jaune over to the center of the shop, another thug covering their approach. "We ain't gonna hurt you, so do as you're told and you get to walk away from here in one piece, capito?"  
"Y-yeah,alright." The blonde answered, fully intending to cooperate. It wasn't like he could do anything; there were six of them, all armed, while he was next to naked without even his civilian carry.

_Just keep telling yourself that, Jaune. It's not like you're incompetent or anything…_

"Alright, is that it for the surprises?" Queried the leader. He sounded bored. Used to this. Either he really was used to it or that he was just this good of an actor. Either way, it meant that he was hard to read. Jaune immediately tagged him as Showtime, given his demeanour, hat and cane. "Let's get moving, people, we don't have all night! You, grab the camera tapes! The rest of you, back to the dust!"

The team of robbers got back into motion, the one singled out by their leader heading to the back, while the rest set about grabbing as much dust as they could pack into the cases they had brought in. Jaune was lead over to the old man, and forced down onto his knees.

"Stay there, don't rubberneck." Growled his captor.

Then the bell jingled. All the heads turned towards the source of the noise.

"Hey, you!"

She was dressed in a black gothic dress, edged in red. Most of her shoulders and face were obscured by the oversized red hood she was wearing, which swirled around her like it had a life of its own. Jaune blinked as he saw what she was handling, though.

A large crimson rifle - more a cannon - finished unpacking from storage mode in her hands, with one hand holding a handle on the side while the other gripped its pistol grip, keeping it pointed straight at Showtime.

"This is no longer a robbery! Put your hands up!"


	3. Curtain Call

This… was not good.

One of the thugs cocked his head to one side. "Wait, what?"

The occupants of the store all looked at each other in askance, turning from one to the other in confusion. Was this actually happening? The oversized rifle swung back and forth, causing each person to fall under its sights (wait, did it even have sights?) to flinch back as it passed over them. Jaune kept himself low on his knees, trying to ignore the pounding headache in his head, that inevitable hammering hangover, as he watched the scene unfold, ready to throw himself to one side. He fought the panic rising from his stomach, forcing it back down.

Wait. Did she even know how to use that thing?

Focus fixed on the girl, Showtime blinked and almost doopped the cigar he was smoking, staring with naked fascination at the girl in red. "Hey! Could this be one of those 'Hunters' we've been hearing about? Well, are you or aren't you? A cop would be showing us her badge by now, so I'm sure there's none in this room."

Jaune remained quiet. The bossman took a step towards her, smile slowly growing as he pointed an accusing finger at her. "And hunters… well, we all know hunters work in pairs. Did your partner die on you, Red? That's a worried look you got there, so I'm guessing you're the other kind of vigilante we got running around here. Do you know what they're called? The wannabes."

Red didn't seem to appreciate the scrutiny, instead resettling her weapon and pointing it directly at the leader's face. The man in the bowler hat stopped dead in his tracks.

"I said hold it! It doesn't matter if I'm a hunter or not, a cop or not! You're robbing this store, and I'm stopping you" She declared. "Drop your weapons and give up already!"

Her target merely grinned ever the wider, chuckling darkly at the threat, but nevertheless began to back off. "You know, I get the feeling that that's my line. Right, guys?"

His smile turned vicious. "Let's take it from the top, everyone!"

A snap of his finger was all the signal his goons needed to get the hint and raise their own weapons. Jaune watched as Red suddenly - unfortunately, unsurprisingly - found herself on the business end of three pistols, her eyes shifting wildly from one to the other. Showtime paced around as if he was without a care in the world, swinging his cane to an unheard tune as he smiled at the girl.

"Okay, now that everything's set, here's how it's going to go: you hold your hands up, and drop your weapons. Because I don't need no oracle to tell me, Red, that if you take that shot, you're going home in a body bag."

She hesitated, unsure of herself, her muzzle wavering as she grit her teeth. Jaune's eyes flicked back and forth, trying to find a way out of this. The room was starting to move… he was sure he had upchucked most of the alcohol, but what about the stuff already in his system?

This wasn't good...

He knew that she was probably thinking the same thing as he was: If she just fired at him, the three would start shooting and that would be it for her, boxed into this tiny store with no real cover. Her mind was starting to cloud with doubts and fears; Jaune could understand that situation all too well when they first put him through academy training. But he had trained, and worked hard, and now here he was.

Just as useless as ever.

Jaune let out a slow moan as he cupped his head in one hand. His headache was getting worse; he felt as if his collarbone burned, and the throbbing in his head made the situation even more unbearable. The rookie swayed on his feet, trying to remain focused as the leader of the gang checked his watch. He must have known that they would be running out of time.

"Tell you what, Red:" Showtime took a short puff of his cigar and held it in his fingers. "I'm in a hurry. You can just walk away. I'm not going to ask you to drop your weapon, you can keep it. Hell, if you want some of the dust here come grab some as well, I'm sure the stuff you use is pretty expensive."

"I'm not some rotten cop that takes bribe money, you know!" She snapped, suddenly rigid again.

Another throb only helped to further punctuate the agony in Jaune's head. Ouch. Harsh words, lady.

"No, you're a wannabe hunter is what you are. You know how they work, and so do I, so we both know that you. Aren't. One."

He made another grand gesture, pointing at the door. "Last chance, girlie. You just walk away, and we can all move on. Forget this night ever happened. I'm not going to hurt these two," He said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the old man and the blonde. "not when I've already got what I wanted out of them. All you need to do is turn around, leave the store and nobody gets hurt. I'm not going to ask you to be a hostage, I'm not going to ask you to humiliate yourself for their safety. Just go out that door and be nowhere nearby when I walk out of it, and everyone gets to go to sleep happy and healthy. Sound good to you?"

Red paused. She couldn't seriously be considering it, was she? Jaune let out a groan as anger began to bubble up along with his own humiliation, hurt and the water sloshing around inside.

"Hey? Uh. Excuse me. Guys?"

Everyone turned to him, though Showtime quickly signalled his goons to turn their weapons back towards Red. Jaune gulped down his nervousness, letting that join the rest of the things in his stomach. The nearest thug with a gun was… there.

"What? I'm sorry, but you're being incredibly rude." Showtime snarled, frown deepening. "If you need to use the bathroom, you can wait. We got adults talking here, kiddo."

Jaune took a step forward, knees trembling.

"Look. Uh. I just got something say." He staggered forward, straightening ever so slightly as he grabbed onto a wire frame shelf for support. "Well, not say. Ask. Yeah… ask: Do any of you know what nickname I got on my first day of Academy?"

Before anyone could answer, he made that last step, within reach of the pistol-wielding goon..

"Vomit boy."

Jaune grabbed the thug and puked all over the guy's face.

It was disgusting. It was completely outside of his training. It was probably going to get him fired if it didn't get him killed first.

It worked.

The thug let out a disgusted sound and just like a black hole, he sucked in all the attention of his fellows.

Red saw her opening and took the shot.

White heat punched across the room, the dust discharge catching Showtime square in the chest. As the bullet struck, his aura kicked in and the forces clashed, the latter spreading the former out over the surface of his body, so rather than getting shot by a bullet going at supersonic speeds the man in the bowler hat was instead hit by something more akin to a small car doing thirty. The end result was that he was thrown bodily over the register and into the space usually occupied by the shopkeeper with a loud and uncomfortable sounding crash.

Red let the recoil of the shot kick the cannon back, aiming it behind her and outside the store, her hand frantically cycling the weapon as the remaining gunmen raised their pistols, and fired before they could get a clean shot; this time she was propelling herself forward, slamming into him and sending him flying across the room as her tiny frame checked him.

Jaune shouted at the old man to book it, and watched him do so. But by now the gunman he had thrown up over finally recovered.

"You little shit!" The retaliatory punch knocked him to the ground, and he instinctively lashed out with his legs, kicking the thug's out from underneath him.

A puke-soaked thug fell down on top of him, and mostly from disgust Jaune heaved him off to one side, the smell of it already leaving him retching again. He half-rolled, getting onto all fours, and crawled over to the thug as glass shattered and swords were drawn around them.

With a wordless battle cry the blonde scored second blood by tearing off his opponent's glasses and then slammed his own forehead into the man's nose, trying to ignore the wet smack as he got his own vomit all over his forehead and hair. What he couldn't ignore was the fist in his stomach, an attack which made him clap his hands over his mouth and puff out his cheeks.

The thug promptly began to scramble back, not wanting to be vomited on a second time.

Jaune went after him, jaw firmly locked in place as he forced his bile back down. He got halfway to actually standing before his legs were kicked out from underneath him, sending him plunging to the ground. Luckily the thug broke his fall.

With a yelp the thug elbow came around, smacking against the man's raised arm, and all the while the blonde was trying to raise his leg high enough to fend off the man's knee from getting a clear shot at his ribs as the two scrambled to get the upper hand. It must have been like a schoolyard brawl, where the two devolved into some big ball of violence; punching, kicking, grabbing and pulling. The thug let out a grunt and threw them to one side, getting atop him, knee pressed against his stomach.

"Come on, puke head, try it again!" He snarled, raising his fist.

The rookie let out a grunt as the thug punched through his aura and into his ribs, driving the air out of his lungs. Gasping for breath, Jaune reached out for something - anything - and found some purchase on one of the wireframe shelves. He pulled, covering his face as a half dozen bottles of Burn dust clattered from the shelf and down onto the thug, who yelped as each thick, heavy bottle - each almost five kilograms plus change - crashed down onto his back and head, shouting muffled curses over the clatter of… burn dust.

Wait… Burn dust.

Both spoke as one: "Oh shit."

They were rolling around in the middle of potentially high explosive dust. There was probably enough powdered Burn here to level the building and some of the block around them.

Even in the middle of that fight, both realized their mutual danger and quickly scrambled away from the volatile powders, even picking up a few jars and reshelving them. Jaune put away the last of the bottles and then regretted it immediately as a savage kick caught him in the side and knocked him over.

The thug leaped on top of him, using the advantage to rain blows on Jaune. He was beating down on him, but a combination of a tough (and quickly regenerating) aura and refusal to give him enough purchase nor room to land a knockout blow made sure that the blonde stayed in the fight, struggling to put up a defense as he weathered the blows.

Instead of a fight-ending one-two strike, Jaune's incessant wriggling and struggling turned it into just a flurry of awkward punches that would really show in the morning.

But he couldn't stay like that forever. He tucked his legs in, and pushed.

Jaune threw the thug to the left, smashing him into another shelf - this time one with small plastic sachets of much more stable, cyan blue dust. Frost, wasn't it? It was a much less exciting substance than powdered Burn, something both were thankful for, and Jaune grabbed the nearest handful of bags - labelled Instant Slushy! (just add aura) - and breathed out, using the feeling to channel his aura into the dust.

Just like the mages, but it was a simple enough operation that anyone could do it.

He then mashed his palm into the man's neck and triggered them.

The sachets immediately worked as advertised, exploding into a sphere of slushy ice the rough dimensions of a basketball from the impact, forming around the man's neck and side of his head, thankfully leaving his nose uncovered. He let out a sudden - albeit muted - yelp and pitched over, the ice falling off as his head hit the ground, freeing Jaune's suddenly very cold hand to bring it back and slug him in the nose. The man's nostrils bloomed with blood, pinkening the artificial snow, and he fell backwards.

The blonde scrambled to his feet as the man struggled to rip off the awkwardly formed ice cubes stuck to his cheek and nose, sputtering as he scraped it off. First the blonde puked on him, then the two had battered each other purple, and now he had ice everywhere. Jaune almost felt sorry for him.

He looked up to see the blonde spooling up for a kick.

"Oh f-"

Jaune's foot slammed into the side of his head, bouncing it off a refrigerator and knocking the thug out cold in a flash of dissipating aura.

The blonde let out a triumphant yell, breathing heavily as he stumbled to keep his balance. He was probably going to be purple tomorrow, and it hurt like hell, but as he rode the adrenaline high he could only feel triumph. A polite cough drew his attention towards the center of the store, though.

"Congratulations, kiddo." Deadpanned a voice. "Yay. Give the man a prize… hey, Red, maybe you should give him a kiss?"

"Huh?"

Jaune staggered back as he took in the room around him.

"No way..." During his brawl, most of the shelves had been knocked over or otherwise rendered into smaller pieces. What looked like a tube of much larger powdered Frost crystals had been knocked over and triggered, turning the entire far wall into something that would not have been out of place inside a frozen cave. And it had a goon transfixed to the ice, still struggling against the cold. Another had been shoved in the freezer halfway and a third - also out cold - thrown on top to trap his comrade. They and the one Jaune had knocked out accounted for four, plus Showtime over there… what was that noise?

Jaune looked up, and made a small 'ah'.

The remaining robber was above them.

Red must have had one hell of an uppercut, because the thug had been put through the ceiling, his legs dangling from above as bits of insulation drifted to the floor as he scrambled to get up and away, rather than fall back down. In all, quite the scene of devastation. It actually made him feel a little inadequate.

Annoyed coughing drew the blonde's eyes back towards the two others still standing: Red and Showtime and...

"Is that... a scythe?"

"It's also a customizable high impact sniper rifle." Red grinned, suddenly running on automatic. She caught herself, blushed.

Showtime rolled his single visible eye. "Really? That's the first thing you see?"

Jaune nodded mutely. The girl in red had at some stage swapped out her cannon for a giant reaper's scythe, which explained why several shelves had been neatly bisected. No. Wait. Her cannon had transformed into one. It looked like a sniper-scythe, only... built up. Customized. It was moving, mostly because it's owner was breathing heavily, Red visibly strained from having just took on five thugs. A fact which left Jaune felt a little embarrassed, actually.

Red had the massive weapon wrapped around Showtime's neck as he held his cane against the razor-sharp blade. He was holding her off, but just barely: the girl looked like she was a quick pull away from decapitating him, were he not holding a recovered pistol in his other hand, pressing it against her stomach and keeping her from trying. He was grinning, his own breathing coming in harsh gasps as he struggled to keep the weight of the sniper-scythe off his neck.

"Don't even think about it, Red. Aura'll keep the first pull off my neck, and I've got the barrel close enough that you can't save yourself with yours." He smiled ever the wider. "Not that it matters, anyway. Well, kids, I've gotta say; it's been quite the eventful evening. But… given how things are going, I might have to call it early."

He turned to the door, and grinned. The door bell jingled, and a woman in a red dress stepped in. Ember-hot glyphs swirling around her was a clue that she wasn't some random bystander.

Jaune followed his first instinct, and leaped behind a shelf as the ground underneath him screamed as it glowed white hot.

Predictably, it exploded.

* * *

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